Someone I Knew
by jaffacake1
Summary: Neville has just found out that Professor Moody was in fact one of the people responsible for sending his parents to St Mungo's. His rather jumbled thoughts on that matter. Y'know, there's no Neville on the characters list! Sacrilege!
1. Someone I Knew

Right, this is melodramatic and depressing. Kinda short too. Written very late at night (think 3.30am), when I was in an odd angsty mood. And my angst still has cheesy endings. dammit. Neville's just found out that Mad- eye Moody (well, Barty Jr), someone he has known all year, was one of the people responsible for his parents' condition. These are his rather jumbled thoughts on the matter.  
  
Disclaimer: Neville isn't mine, but, you never know, JKR might be feeling particularly generous. it could happen.  
  
Someone I Knew  
  
I trusted him.  
  
He took me into his office and told me not to worry. He called me laddie. He even tried to comfort me by lending me a book he thought I'd enjoy. I sat in his office and poured my heart out, and all the while he nodded sympathetically, looking like he cared.  
  
The bastard.  
  
It's his fault. He's the reason I live with Gran, the reason my parents live in a mental asylum, and the reason that my own parents don't know who I am. Every summer I visit them, and every summer I have to try and explain to them who I am. They don't believe me, of course. Even if they did, they'd soon forget anyway. They have no memories.  
  
They sit there quietly, looking peaceful and benign, fascinated by everything they see. A butterfly could keep them amused for hours, as they sing little songs to themselves, just like small children. Just like I was when the Death Eaters attacked.  
  
I can't really remember what happened - I was barely two years old at the time. Sure, I have very hazy pictures of that night, it's hardly something you'd forget in a hurry, but most of what I know, I learnt from the Dementors. Every time they came near me, I could hear agonised screams. The frantic cries of my parents as they tried desperately to hide me. They barely managed in time. The Death Eaters were already in the house when they bundled me into a cupboard under the stairs, begging me to stay quiet. I heard them crashing into the room, threatening all sorts of horrible things on my parents. Then, as if with one voice, I heard it. "Crucio." Their screams echoed in the still night.  
  
Gran says that I was found the next morning, curled up in a ball, trying not to make a sound. She said I tried to hurt the people who had come to rescue me. I didn't trust them.  
  
Seems I'm not very good at judging who's trustworthy and who's not, doesn't it?  
  
All year long I have sat in his lessons, frantically trying to write down every word he said, not realising that I was face to face with one of my parents' tormentors. I don't know what I would have done if I had known. Something. I could have done something.  
  
When Dumbledore announced that Professor Moody was, in fact, the younger Bartemius Crouch, a Death Eater, I dropped my fork. The resounding clatter reverberated around the silent hall. Everything started to spin, I could see Harry looking at me concernedly, and his face was the last thing I saw before I slipped into unconsciousness. When I woke, I was in the hospital wing. That's where I am now.  
  
I knew the name from Gran's nightmares. I never know exactly what she's dreaming, but she always tosses and turns, and mutters unintelligible words. I can't make out most of what she says, but there are four names that stand out every time: Estella Lestrange, Bertram Lestrange, Archiduke Mole and Bartemius Crouch. I asked her about them, but she would not tell me. She said that I was too young, that it would cause me too much pain.  
  
I read newspaper after newspaper, having exhausted every resource I could find in our own small house. I searched through years and years worth of Daily Prophets before I found what I was looking for. All four names were in a paper dated 17th June 1982. They were all sentenced to life in Azkaban for the use of an Unforgivable Curse on Frank and Laura Longbottom. My parents. They were meant to stay in Azkaban and rot, their minds should have perished and they should have been driven mad. It was all that they deserved. But now I find that one has been roaming free for twelve years.  
  
Professor Dumbledore told me more. He came and sought me out in here so that I could ask him any questions, or just talk, if I wanted. I couldn't find any words, so he just told me everything.  
  
So now Bartemius Crouch has no soul.  
  
That doesn't comfort me at all. I feel as though I have missed my chance. My chance to make him pay for all the suffering he put my parents through, all the stress he brought upon poor Gran. My chance to make him pay for stealing my parents away from me.  
  
I have no parents anymore. Not really. They're there in body, but their minds have long since gone. I never really knew them.  
  
It's all because of him.  
  
Someone I knew.  
  
Someone I trusted. 


	2. Author's Note

This is not more of the story. In case you couldn't guess... I'm just posting this here because the story didn't post properly last time, so I figured, add a chapter, and see if it works better. This page has no importance whatsoever. Forget you ever read it, and get back to your busy lives (and write more fanfiction!), 'kay? But before you go. if you feel like reviewing the story, I won't argue with that. 


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